


All Too Well

by LemonyBees (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon Divergence - Star Wars Expanded Universe, F/M, Sympathy for the Devil though, There are no good guys here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LemonyBees
Summary: It was rare; I was there.I remember it all too well.





	All Too Well

**Author's Note:**

> So in my real life I am a trauma therapist for people who are either in immediate crisis or have experienced sexual assault or domestic violence. It recently came to my attention that I self-care-ing poorly and internalizing a lot of the things I hear, and my boss requested I find a way to deal with some of the things I'm feeling while also taking care of myself.  
> So I started writing this. I wanted to explore trauma in a way that was safe (for me), while looking at how it could manifest in different people. We've all seen Star Wars. Hux, Kylo Ren, Rey, and Finn all experience trauma as children and they all deal with it in different, but interesting ways.  
> This is just self-care for me, which sounds strange but it has helped. I don't feel anxious walking into work anymore and since I've started writing it I feel like I'm a better therapist.
> 
> I will leave trigger warnings in front of chapters that delve into trauma in depth because I do want to explore Hux's upbringing from his point of view (it doesn't happen right away). And if you are in a situation where you need to reach out to someone, please don't hesitate to send me a message.

Jakclyn had imagined what her future husband might be like many times throughout her life. She knew he would be wealthy, like her own family. Her brother’s marriage four years earlier had been arranged specifically to enhance both family’s wealth and status. She had also imagined he would be someone compassionate, unlike the men in her family. Her mother loved her, and her brothers she was certain. Jak did not think her mother loved her father. 

Her father had begun talking months earlier about finding her a marriage with political connections. Her father dealt in weapons and maintaining a good relationship with the First Order had become more and more important to him as they rose in prominence.  Her parents had discussed the possibility of a marriage with this man or that, all politicians. They always fell through before Jak ever met them, which suited her just fine. Twenty-four felt too young to be married, even if that was how old her mother had been when she married. Her brother had been a year older.

Secretly she hoped she would find someone herself. She was around men enough, at dinners, parties, social functions. None of them were interesting to her. She had begun to wonder if it was possible she was the problem. Women living in the lower levels of Coruscant seemed to find suitable partners all the time. Why couldn’t she?

Not that it mattered anymore, she thought as she sat in front of a mirror. Her father had widened his search and found her a high up in the First Order. A general. He was coming, today to meet her and Jak’s stomach was tied in knots. A military man wasn’t the same as a politician. Politicians were soft and easy manipulated in her experience. She didn’t know anything about military men, other than the training they underwent was brutal.

She fussed with her appearance. Thick, curly red hair was tamed by gold head bands, forcing it off her face with the exception of several rogue members that framed her face. She thought the effect was pretty, softening the harsh lines of the bands, but she tucked them back all the same. Dark lashes framed hooded green eyes, set in a soft, pale face. She was wearing a soft purple gown, flowing skirt but a conservative, square neck line and half sleeves.

As she stared she saw more of her mother than herself. Her father was darker skinned, brown eyed, tall. Her brothers favored him. Genetics were a funny thing, she thought idly as she slid on several bracelets. Her mother was fair and ginger haired and it seemed impossible that Jak could exist in her current form.

“Hey?” Nicoari, her oldest brother, seemingly appeared from nowhere. “You almost ready?”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “Of course.” She hesitated for a moment. “Do you know anything about this man?”

Nico smiled back, taking her elbow and guiding her out of the pastel bedroom she’d inhabited for the last twenty-four years. She glanced behind her at the mess, feeling a burst of affection for the space. Would she ever see it again?

Nico’s smile disappeared. “Maybe it’s better you get to know him without knowing the rumors.”

She stopped, forcing him to stop with her. His brown eyes were anxious, his dark curls flopping into his face. “Why? What kind of reputation does he have?”

“I’ve only heard…I’ve never met him…he…is a particular man.”

Particular man? Jak could read between the lines. Controlling.

“How so?”

“He’s apparently very important in the Order. You can’t judge a man based on his job.”

Easy for Nico to say, Jak thought cynically, as they made their way into the large parlor. Nico would take over the family business, selling weapons and with a sister married into the First Order he wouldn’t run into any problems with the legalities. This marriage, she realized, would always ensure that the Seechar family was the favored business to the First Order.

She was dragged out of her thoughts as they entered the parlor. Her mother and Father were dressed in dark colors and clean lines. They looked the part of loyal citizens of the regime, as did her brothers. Nico was in dark pants and tunic and her younger brother Xanher was dressed nearly identically. Xan, twenty, had managed to slick his hair completely down. She winked at him, forcing a smile on his serious face.

“This is my daughter, Jakclyn,” Portdex Seechar announced. Her head swiveled and their eyes met for the first time. What had she been expecting? Whatever it was, this was not it. His face was severe, with meticulously parted ginger hair and perfectly groomed sideburns. His cheek bones were set like weapons against a pale, tired looking face. Cold, ice blue eyes met warm green and Jak inhaled sharply. He was tall and in the same all black that the rest of her family had chosen to wear and she suddenly felt ridiculous in purple.

His hands were behind his back. She stepped forward and mustered a smile. He did not smile back but instead turned to her father. “She is healthy?”

Portdex exchanged a glance with his wife before answering. “Exceptionally.”

Jak stuffed down a wave of humiliation, arranging her features into polite interest. He turned to her, again and stepped forward. “I am General Armitage Hux.” His eyes narrowed and he closed the distance between them in what felt like one giant step. He was tall, six feet? She lifted her chin, almost defiantly. It felt like a power move, looming over her this way and it was unnecessary. He already had all the power. She had no real say here. He had been communicating with her father for days, weeks, months even for all she knew.

“You may call me Armitage,” he continued, raising a hand. She flinched, slightly but if he noticed he didn’t react, instead tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “I hope to have a satisfying marriage.”

He stepped back and Portdex walked forward, leading him towards his office. They’d work out all the kinks and Jak would show up, marry him, and hope for the best.

When the doors hissed shut Tayeli strode to her daughter, engulfing her in a hug. “You can’t be afraid,” she whispered so softly that Jak thought she might have imagined it. They broke apart so Nico and Xan could congratulate her.

“I think it definitely could have been worse,” Xan quipped.

“The rumors made him seem…unhinged but he seems very controlled,” Nico added.

“I think you mean tightly wound,” Jak responded, sinking onto a soft, white sofa. Her mother joined her, clasping her hand so tightly that it was making Jak anxious.

“Well that’s what a wife is for!” Nico laughed as Jak shot him a dirty look.

 

She slipped away as soon as she could, back into the chaotic atmosphere of her bedroom and screamed into a pillow. There were pros, she thought, lying on her back and staring at the grey ceiling. He was young, not more than ten years older than her. There had been a real possibility that she’d end up with an old man. So many other girls she knew did. He was also reasonably attractive, or, she thought, he could be if he smiled.

The cons though… He had spoken about her as if she were an animal he was considering buying. He looked like he didn’t sleep and he hoped for satisfaction in their union, whatever that meant? Physical satisfaction?

She tried not to let her mind wander down that path but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t have any experience in that department although she understood HOW it worked. Trying to picture Armitage naked was impossible. _Maybe he does it fully dressed?_

Everything about him seemed so clinical, clean…cold. Sex was the opposite though, as far as she’d ever been able to tell. Messy, passionate, hot.

She groaned, burying her face into her pillow again.

 --

It had been a day of surveying different women and by the time he reached the Seechar's he was at the end of his patience. Families parading women around like show animals, who simpered and fawned over him. It bored him to death. He had seen pictures of Jakclyn Seechar, sent to him by her over-eager father and didn't hate what he saw. Pretty eyes, red hair. When he imagined future children, they always looked like he had as a child. Red haired and small. She was his best bet for bringing that reality to life. Red hair wasn't common anywhere, which was the only reason he'd agreed to meet with the Seechar family in the first place.

Too many ugly, dark rumors circulated around them. Portdex and his sons had a reputation for unspeakable cruelty. He had just recently visited a planet that housed one of his mines. Children working in brutal conditions. It had made his stomach turn, though he did not condemn it. He trained children from birth to become soldiers, he knew the value of teaching them early. This was different. Portdex Seechar was also rumored to have forced his wife to carry another man's child in order to give him the daughter he wanted, though Jakclyn was supposedly an exact copy of her mother, which made it impossible to verify the rumor. Seechar men were apparently unable to sire women, for whatever reason. To a wealthy man like Portdex, a beautiful daughter was a powerful asset to have. 

His son Nicoari was less mysterious in his dealings. His facade cracked often, and Armitage, when researching the families he might marry into, had come across several records from the Coruscant Security Force regarding his treatment of his wife. All carefully covered up. 

Money could do that. 

Lost in his thoughts and considering just walking away, Jakclyn walked in and everything else walked out. Green, doe eyes set into soft, fair skin and wild red hair framing it all was burned into his mind. She looked scared. Her lips, soft and pink, parted as she inhaled, their eyes locked. He felt paralyzed. 

_Say something._

"Is she healthy?" 

Her face flushed and her eyes flashed as he mentally chastised himself. That was not what he meant to say at all. He had wanted to say something to her, congratulating her on how beautiful she was or maybe just grabbing her by the hand and running of out of the room where he could compose himself and his thoughts. 

Portdex had undersold her, he realized. As the man responded, Armitage could see him laughing privately at him. 

What he really wanted was to touch her. He stepped forward and introduced himself to her, aware of how he loomed over her. She seemed fragile. Where was that famed Seechar cruelty, the defiance her brothers wore so well? 

She lifted her chin and met his eyes again, though she said nothing, and he saw it. Barely imperceptible but it was there. He brushed a piece of hair from her face, nearly overwhelmed by how soft she was, how good she smelled. She flinched when his hand came near her face. All his hesitations shifted into anger. He dropped his hand. She'd been hit before. In that moment he promised himself he would not be her father. Hell, he wouldn't be his father, either. He would never touch her in anger, no matter how strong the urge. 

When he had decided on a wife, this is not what he had imagined. 

\--

She woke up in time for the engagement party that was being thrown for them. Her mother had laid out several dressed, more conservative than she’d ever worn in her life. All black. She frowned. There were no rules that said she had to absorb her soon to be husband’s personality, so she ignored them and pulled out a navy-blue dress. Part of her wanted to shock him a little. After all, just because he wanted a wife didn’t mean he was going to get an exact replica of himself. She was messy, a disaster in a lot of ways, and she liked fashion. The dress plunged down the back, leaving it completely exposed. The front twisted around her neck, exposing a small amount of cleavage. She freed her hair, fluffing it up with her hands, letting it cascade down her back. She wrapped gold bands around her upper arm and hung long, gold earrings from her ears.

Tayeli came in, looking for Jak. “You’re keeping everyone waiting-“she paused, taking in Jak’s appearance. “Oh Jak…”

“Do I look okay?” Jak asked, biting her bottom lip. If her mother ordered her to change she would, but she liked how she looked. Privately, she hoping to evoke a reaction from Armitage. She knew she was beautiful-people told her so all the time.

“Beautiful. I’m so sad to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Jak promised, hugging her sniffling mother. “Nico is here all the time and I will be, too.”

“It won’t be the same for you. Men typically want their wives to be with them.”

Jak wasn’t following. “That doesn’t mean I can’t visit.”

Her mom wiped away a tear. “He lives in a ship, not a planet. You won’t always be close.”

Well that was news. She hadn’t considered where she might live once this was finished. She’d never even left Coruscant. Would she live full time with him in space? Or would he leave her on different worlds as he dealt with his business? Neither prospect excited her. 

Xan strode in. “You’re making everyone wait, come on,” he hissed, interrupting their talk. Jak took a deep breath and then plastered a smile on her face. She should be happy. She could fake it until she was.

 

Marriage was going to be a reprieve for Armitage. Work, while satisfying, was also frustrating, especially since Kylo had taken the position of Supreme Leader. A wife was a distraction from the never-ending bullshit that was the sulky, withdrawn, unpredictable force user he was saddled with. Kylo Ren was temporary. He was too consumed by his own emotions to be effective and Armitage was certain if Kylo didn’t get himself killed he’d die at Armitage’s hand.

It required patience. Armitage would take his rightful place as supreme leader and wipe that stupid religion off the face of the galaxy and he would finally have order. A wife and maybe even children would soften his image a bit with some of the outer planets. He could trot them out, his perfect family, the best propaganda he could imagine. He imagined well-groomed children standing silently at the feet of their beautiful mother, who smiled and looked happy.

The resistance couldn’t argue with the solid family values that The First Order represented. Armitage wasn’t naive enough to think that Portdex wouldn’t turn on him in a minute if the tables turned and the Resistance returned to power, so bringing Jakclyn Seechar directly into the First Order was a subtle threat. Fall in line, don’t betray me. In a week he would have their only daughter. Dazzled as he had been at the first meeting, he had negotiated well with Portdex. Money and his daughter, in exchange for looking the other way on his business dealings, as well as allowing them to supply the bulk of the weapons The Order needed. He would have access to her portion of the family fortune, as well as securing it for their future children.

He didn’t like the lavish party that had been pulled together seemingly out of nowhere. It seemed like every member of the upper class was jammed into the opulent ballroom, staring and whispering. He disliked the music coming from the band, too loud. He would have preferred to have married her on the spot and gone back to The Supremacy and back to work. A week-long celebration was already grating on his nerves.

One of her brothers, Xan, brought her out and his whole body stiffened. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. Her dress clung to her body, her hair a halo around her head. She didn’t look like any woman he’d ever seen in his life. How could she be more beautiful than she had been earlier that morning?

She looked like a fever dream.

She floated over, a soft smile on her lips. He didn’t realize everyone was staring. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid her hand into his and the noise of the room resumed as it had been before she walked in. Was he holding his breath? He exhaled, slowly.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, looking concerned.

“Perfectly fine,” he responded, confused. “Why?”

“You look…angry?”

Did he? He felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach. He opened his mouth to reassure her that everything was fine but her face was so beautiful the words died on his lips. How was she not married yet? Didn’t anyone else see her? The urge to take her run away with her was strong again. They were already holding hands. Who could stop him? He shook his head. 

_Get yourself together._

He shook his head. “All good.”

He couldn’t lose his head to one beautiful woman. It would be his ruin.

 

\--

He was weird, she decided halfway through the night. Something was going on internally, some sort of war he was fighting with himself. She’d see flashes of emotions in his eyes if she watched him long enough. He had his hand on her lower back and had not removed it since she’d come in. Was it possessive? Had he never touched a woman? Was he afraid she was going to run off and disappear into the lower levels?

She was annoyed, detaching herself from the mindless chatter of everyone hoping to get onto his good side with a soft “excuse me,”. She could feel his eyes burning into her back but she didn’t turn around as she escaped onto the empty balcony. She stared out into the city that had always been so beautiful to her. She heard the door behind her hiss open and then close. She didn’t move, assuming it was one of her brothers until she felt that familiar hand touch her back, softly. She was leaning against the railing. He stood straight behind her. She looked up.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked after a moment of silently studying him. He was staring straight ahead and she wondered what he saw.

“Yes.”

Stupid question, she thought. He had asked to marry her, hadn’t he? It was unlikely he went into the arrangement blind. Like she did. She breathed out loudly, straightening up.

“Do you dance?” It was straight forward, her eyes locked with his. She saw surprise cross his measured face, just a flash.

“Not as a rule.”

“Well I do,” she continued, stepping away and offering him her hand. He looked down and then back at her face, before taking it. She closed the distance between them and placed her other hand behind his neck. “You put your hand on my back,” she told him. When he did, it brought them so close she could smell his aftershave. It was subtle, a clean scent that was burning itself into her brain. She’d never be able to smell it again without thinking about this moment ever again. They were just standing there, holding each other but not moving. Could he not dance at all?

She was about to take a step when he did, finally, and he had more grace than she would have imagined. He was an easy partner and she felt herself relax and lean into the movement. The faint sound of the band radiated through the doors, nearly drowned from the bustle of the city but it didn’t matter. He was back in the same place he had been when she’d come into the room today. He looked like he was on another planet. She was going to learn how to read him, she decided.

“Tell me about yourself,” she said as they moved, bringing him back to reality.

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know? Your parents?”

“Dead.”

She bit her lower lip. Bad start. “How was your childhood?”

He looked away from her, staring back into the distance, just for a second. “Efficient.”

What did that even mean? _Power through it,_ she instructed herself. Men like him, she decided, underestimated women. She could convince him to trust her if she seemed open and unguarded.

“My favorite childhood memory is swimming with my brothers,” she told him. It was a lie. They’d had access to a pool and she would imagine it was an ocean. “My dad would throw us into the deepest part and I’d sink down and then shoot back to the surface and beg him to do it again.” 

_Beg him not to do it again,_ she corrected herself internally. She had hated being tossed in, the panic at not being able to swim, of seeing her brothers laugh when she'd break the surface, gasping for air. She didn't have many good childhood memories though. Most were schooling, or reading alone in her bedroom. She had only been allowed out into society when her father wanted to show her off. 

Those kinds of stories didn't make for upbeat conversation. Retooling it was better. It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't respond. 

He spun her, her skirt fanning out around them and the moment suddenly felt delicate. A spell had been cast, maybe the moment he had walked out here with her. Any sudden movement would shatter it.

She crashed into him gracelessly, overwhelmed by the breathless feeling that overtook her. The city lights were dancing across his solemn face, a piece of red hair falling into his eyes. Her mother had warned her not to be afraid but in this moment, she was positive she didn’t need to be.

She had roots, grounding her. One hand was still clasped in his, the other flat against his chest. She could feel the heat radiating off of him. He brought his free hand to her face and brushed away some of the curls before cupping it gently. She’d been kissed before, having occasionally stolen away, out of sight with someone before rushing back out so she wasn't caught. This was different. Her heart was pounding. Maybe it was the weight of the moment, spellbound by his presence and her own desperation to form a connection with the man she’d be married to for the rest of her life.

His lips were surprisingly soft. Her eyes fluttered shut, the hand on his chest snaking up to his neck again. She wanted to touch exposed skin, an explosion of desire that excited and frightened her.

The doors hissed and he stepped away from her instantly. The spell was broken. He was severe looking again, running his hand through his hair quickly, the piece of hair back in place.

“General Hux, a communication…” She didn’t bother turning around to see who was addressing him. She leaned back against the rail, her fingers idly tracing the shape of her lips.

He was gone. 


End file.
